Ramen
by Tonko
Summary: Naruto visits Ichiraku for the first time.


It had been a good day for business, Ichiraku Kenta thought contentedly to himself. Early spring, and the air was cool, but the sun had been out in a blue sky and lots of people had been out walking, even after sunset, since the clear, cold, evening air had been fine stargazing weather.

Now, at the end of the night, he was running out of sliced meats and chopped onions. He'd need to send Aki to market tomorrow.

"Hey, hey!" a piping voice commanded his attention, but he couldn't see anyone until he leaned farther over the counter. Blue eyes squinted up at him from below a brush of uncombed blond hair. Oh. It was "that kid," Uzumaki Naruto. The marks on his face were a giveaway, but everyone knew the grubby little blond child on sight anyway. He'd seen the brat here and there, chasing stray dogs, being dragged by the arm or ear out of a few shops, or just wandering aimlessly. Naruto hadn't been restrained by a caretaker for the past year or so. At six years old the kid was capable of feeding himself and buying his own things, apparently. He'd even be starting school soon, and what would other kids' parents be muttering then?

Kenta's own opinion of the boy was somewhat less virulently distilled than most of the townfolk. The Kyuubi hadn't stolen any of his loved ones or close friends, so he lacked any personal hatred for the demon's vessel. And right now Naruto was looking particularly small, dirty and altogether unthreatening.

"Ramen!" the kid demanded, and smacked a fistful of coins onto the low eating counter, and hauled himself up onto one of the stools. Kenta's first instinct was to shoo the kid off. He may not despise him, but he certainly didn't like him. Not to mention having the kid sitting at the stall would drive away any more business He frowned. Naruto folded his arms on the counter and stared back. Well… really, what did it matter? It was late, the kid was hungry, and where else was he going to eat? He didn't want the kid to starve, he supposed.

"Coming up." Kenta acknowledged, picking the price of a medium bowl out of the mess of coins. He stepped back to prepare it, keeping half an eye on the urchin perched at his counter. Naruto was wearing only a tee-shirt, and now had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to ward off the chill. When he felt Kenta's eyes on him, he offered up a bright smile worthy of any six-year-old anticipating dinner. Kenta suppressed a reflexive grimace—he certainly didn't want the kid attaching himself to this stall—but when a cold breeze wafted through and wrung a shiver out of the kid, he paused in his preparations to deposit a cup of hot tea in front of the kid, and grubby hands wrapped around the cup right away. Naruto hunched over it, letting the steam rise into his face.

Putting back the medium bowl he'd intended to fill, Kenta picked a large off the shelf and started filling it. He put all the leftover meat in, making sure to add vegetables as well. Might as well use up the leftovers, right?

Naruto was still blowing carefully on the hot tea when Kenta placed the bowl in front of him.

"Looks good!" exclaimed the kid, followed by a solemn "Itadakimasu!" Then he dug in with a will.

Kenta cleaned up as the kid ate, putting things away and wiping down the various surfaces. Despite Naruto's small size, he succeeded in putting away the whole bowl fairly swiftly.

"Aaaaah…" Naruto downed the last of his tea. "I'm full now." He patted his stomach

"Thanks, mister! Bye!" Naruto slid off the bench, waved once, and trotted off into the darkness across the street. Kenta let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Was he going to come back again? Kenta wasn't really enthused at the prospect.

By the end of the next day, Kenta locked up the stall without having seen either hide or hair of the demon-boy.

Naruto didn't come back on the second day after either.

Or the third, or the fourth.

On the night of the fifth day, Kenta had dismissed the visit as a one-time thing, and ceased to give it any thought. As he started cleaning up, however, he heard the scuff of sandals, followed by a "Hey, hey!"

He leaned over to see the demon-boy. He still looked small, cold and hungry, though his expression seemed to dare anyone to look at him crossways. When he saw Kenta, though, he grinned, and dropped coins onto the counter.

"Ramen!"

He was back after all. Ah well. There were always leftovers. Kenta picked a large bowl off the shelf.

"Coming up."


End file.
